On this day, the anniversary of our joy
by thisisnotmybeautifulhouse
Summary: Follows a year after the end of "Even Though We're Doing Everything Wrong, We'll Eventually Get It Right," in response to the prompt, "Scars," on Camelot Drabble.


Notes: For jelazakazone.

_You guys thought I'd forgotten about this 'verse completely, didn't you?_

_There was this awkward moment when I finished writing this piece where I was like, "Oh, crap. It's not in the right tense," but it really __wanted__ to be written in present tense, so I'm just going to let it go._

_Written for Camelot_Drabble, for the prompt of "Scars," and gifted to jelazakazone because she wanted me to see me write something happy _

"Are you sure you want to do this? Because we could go and do something else today – you don't need to prove anything to me, Merlin." They're standing outside of _Kilgharrah's Kinetic Body Art_, holding hands and staring at the building in trepidation.

Merlin looks down at the evidence of their union and squeezes Arthur's hand in reassurance. "Absolutely."

Together, they enter the shop, and a wizened old man peers up at them, his half-moon glasses and regal demeanor at odds with the nature of the establishment. Then again, the entire affair defies the typical tattoo parlor, decorated in warm browns, reds, and golds, with portraits of the dragons _Kilgharrah's_ has become so famous for.

"What can I do for you today, gentlemen?"

In answer, Merlin smiles shyly and holds out the sketch of what he soon hopes to wear proudly upon his abdomen. The man studies the lines and swirls intently for a moment and then looks up, saying, "This will be a masterpiece and an honor to create. If you would come back in an hour, I will be ready to begin."

Departing, Arthur and Merlin make their way to the little Italian sorbet shop a few doors down and, when the other patrons are not looking, feed each other bites from their own bowls. Normally they avoid such public displays, but on their anniversary, they both feel rather inclined to revel in how far they have come in the year since they tied the knot with little Mithian and Percy in attendance.

Merlin takes a moment as mango sorbet caresses and excites his taste buds to send George silent thanks – the Pendragon butler adores their children, but the fact that he felt capable of watching them all day was an unlooked for blessing, and Merlin and Arthur both needed this time together, just the two of them.

He glances around and, upon seeing that everyone else is very much absorbed in their own little familial bubbles, leans across the table and presses a soft, sweet kiss against his husband's lips, feeling Arthur's smile and his sorbet-cooled breath against his own. "It's probably time to go back," he whispers after withdrawing a hairsbreadth.

"Mmm," Arthur hums, before taking liberty with the lips still so close to his own and then standing to clear their limited debris from the table.

They reenter the warmly colored shop and the elderly man leads them into a back room, every bit as vibrant and welcoming as the one in the front. Merlin pulls up his soft black cotton shirt, which he nicked from Arthur earlier today for its well-worn feeling, and for the extra room to cover the detailing.

"Now, am I to understand you would like for the image to cover this?" The man indicates the scar left over from when Merlin had his appendix out. He was fourteen at the time, and if memory serves him, Arthur held his hand on the way to the hospital, nearly as tightly as he is holding it now.

"Yeah, that's what I was hoping."

Merlin is fairly convinced he never wants to receive another tattoo – once is more than enough. However, his magic works eagerly now to sooth the discomfort, and his joy at sharing this gift with Arthur overwhelms any lingering pain or anxiety.

When at last the tattoo is complete, Merlin gazes wondrously at it in the mirror which the artist drew him towards. There, in the place where his scar used to be, is a brilliant red and gold dragon, with Merlin and Arthur's names curling about each other on the long, serpentine tail. Arthur comes up behind him and carefully, so carefully, wraps him up in his arms, the two of them staring at the tattoo together. Nuzzling the skin behind Merlin's ear, Arthur whispers, "Happy anniversary."

A soft, delighted thing settles in his chest and tilts up the corners of Merlin's lips. "Yeah," he breathes back. "Yeah, it is."


End file.
